


Happy Birthday Sherlock Holmes

by StarSpangledBucky



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Cake, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Stubborn Sherlock, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 19:36:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1316731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpangledBucky/pseuds/StarSpangledBucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Sherlock’s birthday, not that he takes much notice. John wants to surprise him with a party, thinking he can somehow make the detective see how important he is. However, something gets in the way of how Sherlock reacts to the situation, causing tension between the pair until Sherlock makes a shocking confession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday Sherlock Holmes

Birthday; a day that comes once a year in a person’s life, where they celebrate the anniversary of their birth. For most, it is a day filled with laughs, gifts and parties. Yet for one, Sherlock Holmes, it was simply another normal day. The young detective didn’t hate his birthday, just a slight distaste for the entire concept behind such a day. His robe flowed behind him as he paced irritably around the flat’s small lounge room. He’d solved a case only a few hours previous to now, yet something was still bothering him. It then hit him suddenly as he clapped his hands together.

“John doesn’t know I despise my birthday,” he mumbled, resting his fingertips on his chin.

Thoughts played in Sherlock’s mind, trying to think of how he could escape all the attention. As if on cue, John had appeared at the bottom of the stairs from his bedroom.

“Good morning John,” Sherlock spoke in a monotone.

“Morning Sher,” he huffed, yawning with a stretch as his shirt lifted ever so slightly.

Sherlock averted his eyes from the young doctor, staring outside the lounge room window momentarily. 

“I understand it’s someone's special day,” John mumbled from inside the kitchen.

The detective sighed slightly, turning around to face John again.

“Now John, I don’t want a huge fuss, I’m not particularly fond of my birthday, to me it’s a pointless day, all I’m doing is getting a year older,” Sherlock explained with slight annoyance.

“I know,” John replied half-heartedly. 

“Liar,” Sherlock huffed.

John turned his head to look at the detective, his best friend to be more exact.

“I beg your pardon?” he grumbled, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, crinkles becoming more prominent the more he narrowed them.

“You’re lying John Watson. You want to make a fuss and shower me with gifts and a cake,perhaps, a party with close friends,” he muttered, moving behind John.

“Don’t be ridiculous Sherlock,” the doctor laughed nervously. 

In truth, John had planned everything for Sherlock’s birthday, two days prior to today, he wanted Sherlock to see just how special he really is.

“I’m not. I can tell by the way your shoulders tensed when I called you a liar. You also refrained from making eye contact with me which suggests, a liar. Oh and another thing, you left your planner by the coffee table and I couldn’t help but notice you had circled today’s date and wrote ‘Sherlock’s Birthday’ in the middle. I hardly call that not making a fuss,” Sherlock whispered against John’s neck, making his hair stand up on end. 

“Alright Sherlock, you got me with your bloody deducing. But what is the problem? Are you frightened? Anxious? Confused?” John questioned, pouring tea into two cups.

“Neither,” Sherlock replied, moving away from John. “I just simply despise my birthday,” he added, placing himself down in his seat.

John sighed as he brought the tea out of the kitchen and sat a cup on the table, opposite Sherlock.

“Well, Happy Birthday none the less,” he muttered.

Sherlock placed his hands under his chin, his eyes locked with John’s.

“I suppose I should thank you, so thank you John,” he drawled in his usual monotone voice before averting his gaze.

John rolled his eyes, grabbing the newspaper as he unfolded it, blocking Sherlock out entirely. Sherlock grumbled slightly as he shuffled in his chair, John barely moving a muscle. The detective groaned in irritability, turning his whole body around. His legs were now hanging over the back of the chair and his head rested at the other end. He finally gave out a loud huff as John dropped the newspaper, glaring at him.

“Sherlock what on earth are you doing?” he asked.

“Bored,” the detective replied with a sigh.

“Well go find something to do, a case or something,” John mumbled.

“No, too much effort right now,” Sherlock whined, tapping his finger on his lips. “Actually,” he spoke, turning himself back again. “I might nip over to St.Barts for a couple of hours,” he added.

“Great, well, off you go and get dressed,” John replied with a small smile. 

Sherlock disappeared upstairs, only to appear moments later as he slipped his coat on, wrapping his navy blue scarf around his neck. He looked over at John who still sat in his chair, reading the paper.

“Are you not coming?” Sherlock asked with a slightly annoyed tone.

“No I’m quite fine here, you go and enjoy yourself,” John hummed.

Sherlock stared at him briefly before turning around.

“Alright, goodbye then, see you later,” the detective replied.

John watched as he left, thinking he may have heard a slight bit of hurt in Sherlock’s voice as John usually went with him. Perhaps he was only day dreaming. As soon as John heard the front door click her went upstairs to get changed before walking into the kitchen. He pulled a cook book from a shelf and flicked to the cakes section.

“Right, let’s get this party in order then,” he spoke with a smirk. 

~~~*~~~

Hours later everything was set up for Sherlock’s surprise party. Molly offered to bring Sherlock home from St.Barts so it gave John more time to get everything perfect. Lestrade, Mrs Hudson and even Sherlock’s brother Mycroft arrived early so they were here to yell surprise when Sherlock turned up.

“John that cake looks lovely,” Mrs Hudson spoke as she appeared in the kitchen.

John turned his head to smile at her as he placed some piping hot food on the table.

“Thank you, I just want to make his birthday a special one this year,” he mumbled.

“I know dear, now clean yourself up, he’ll be here soon,” Mrs Hudson ordered, leaving the kitchen.

“He’s here!” Lestrade yelled.

“Dammit,” John cursed as he quickly scrubbed his hands and wiped them on a dish towel before heading into the lounge room. 

“Mycroft, the lights,” Mrs Hudson whispered.

Mycroft nodded slightly before flicking the switch, the room subjecting itself to darkness. John heard the front door open and close as footsteps padded up the stairs.

“I don’t understand why you’re following me up Molly, there’s no need,” Sherlock’s voice grumbled.

The footsteps stopped as the light filtered into the room.

“Surprise!” we yelled.

Sherlock stood motionless before looking around the room, then momentarily at the guests. John could sense something was wrong until he saw Sherlock’s mouth twitch.

“What a wonderful surprise!” he exclaimed, a lopsided smile spreading on his face.

John couldn’t tell if the detective was bluffing but it certainly didn’t look like it. Molly took Sherlock’s coat and scarf as he went to his guests to thank them. He finally turned to John, making absolute eye contact with him, and only him. 

“John,” he spoke. “You did this?” he asked, placing his hands behind his back.

“Yes, all of it,” John replied with a soft smile.

Sherlock nodded as he walked over to the doctor, pulling him in for a warm embrace.

“I need to speak to you in the kitchen right this instant,” he whispered before pulling away.

The tone of his voice made John’s heart sink slightly. Was this where Sherlock called him out, telling him he didn’t want a fuss and how ridiculous it was?

“Alright, um everyone make yourselves comfortable, Sherlock and I just need a moment,” John wavered, biting his lip slightly. 

The guests nodded as they stayed at the far end of the room, away from the kitchen. Sherlock went first as he lent against the table, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. John followed as he stood opposite Sherlock.

“John,” he spoke in a monotone.

John lifted his head to stare into the bright blue orbs that were Sherlock’s.

“What did I say about this? I clearly stated, I wanted no fuss,” he continued.

“Sherlock, I-I just wanted to surprise you and make you feel important,” the doctor replied with a shaky voice. 

Sherlock stared at his best friend across from him, anazlyzing him. The young detective stepped forward, placing his hand on the counter by John’s left side. He certainly didn’t have a clue about personal space, yet John never spoke about it.

“Yes, I can tell,” he murmured.

John could sense more decuding on its way. 

“Judging by the smell of fresh food you’ve been here for a good few hours. Your flustered cheeks tell me you’ve been in front of that oven frantically cooking meals without any assistance. I also couldn’t help but notice the stray pieces of icing sugar on your sleeve which could lead me to think that,” Sherlock paused, swiping the icing sugar from John’s sweater. “Baking a cake was also on your agenda. It all occured to me slightly as Molly stalled us for over an hour at St.Barts. You also didn’t flick the light switch quick enough as I found it strange that they turned off as I arrived, however I did notice Lestrade by the window,” he continued, breath lingering near John’s face.

“Are you quite finished?” John asked, with slight hurt in his voice.

“No, I finally noticed the cheap decorations that you’d obviously asked Mrs Hudson to buy as she always tries to spend less. Judging by all your effort, you did it for nothing as I simply requested none of this yet you went and did it,” Sherlock mumbled, tilting his head slightly. 

John felt as if his entire chest had just ripped open. He was usually used to Sherlock’s deducing, yet this time it was more than upsetting.

“John,” Sherlock hummed, still staring at the doctor and still standing close.

Without thinking John’s hand connected with Sherlock’s cheek, slapping him aggressively as the detective flinched slightly.

“You bastard!” John exclaimed, pushing Sherlock away. 

John rushed into the lounge room, grabbing his jacket as he stumbled down the stairs and walked out of the flat, slamming the door. The detective stood in disbelief as he walked out to the lounge room, nursing his throbbing cheek.

“Sherlock,” Mrs Hudson spoke with slight annoyance.

“What?” he replied.

“What did you do?” she questioned.

“I deduced his efforts for this surprise party, telling him it was all too obvious and the decorations were cheap,” Sherlock answered.

There was silence before Molly began shaking Sherlock by the shoulders.

“Oh Sherlock you idiot! John went to all this hassle just for you, just for your special day. Can’t you see he cares about you, now go and bloody find him!” she yelled as she stopped shaking the detective.

“But,” Sherlock stopped abruptly.

“Sherlock,” Molly grumbled with a scowl.

“Alright, alright where’s my coat?” he asked. 

Molly handed it to Sherlock as he slipped it on before tying his scarf, feeling like he was having deja vu as he looked at everyone.

“I may be gone a while, help yourself to food and cake then you may go home,” Sherlock instructed before disappearing down the stairs. 

He opened the door of 221B as he stepped out into the crisp, cool air of London.

“Now to find John,” he huffed, walking down the street in search of his companion. 

~~~*~~~

Sherlock had traipsed around the streets of London for hours. He was beginning to give up hope on finding John. The detective couldn’t help but feel absolutely guilty for what he said. Regardless of his lack of emotion it seemed that John Watson had broken a certain wall inside Sherlock. He sighed heavily as he stopped at the end of yet another street. 

“Where are you John?” he huffed, looking around his surroundings.

Sherlock stopped abruptly as he saw a familiar figure sitting on a bence in the park across from the detective. John looked frozen, his arms were tightly grasped around his body but it didn’t seem to be working. The detective checked the roads before crossing and walking into the park. His shoes crunched against the frosty leaves, the wind blowing his coat back behind him. He reached John, momentarily staring at him before clearing his throat. The doctor looked up, shivering slightly as his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of Sherlock. 

“Mind if I join you?” the detective questioned.

John gave only a slight mumble as Sherlock sat himself down, his hands resting in his pockets. There was a great deal of silence as neither men said anything, they simply thought. Sherlock soon realised it should be him talking first, yet he slipped his warm coat off first.

“Here, you need it more than me,” he issued, resting it on John’s shoulders.

“Piss off,” John huffed with a scowl.

The detective had never seen his best friend so angry with him before. There were times where they both ticked each other off, yet they never ended like this.

“John,” Sherlock sighed, rubbing his hands together. 

“Don’t even speak Sherlock, I’m angry with you,” he grumbled, pulling Sherlock’s coat tighter around him as he slowly stopped shivering.

“I can tell, but John, I-” Sherlock paused briefly, his fingertips placed under his chin. “Let me explain,” he added, turning his gaze to meet John’s. 

John was silent before he nodded, looking away from his dear friend Sherlock Holmes.

“John, I know you care about me and that is exactly why you did all this preparation for my birthday. I realise I’ve hurt you slightly and I am so very sorry,” Sherlock spoke.

John opened his mouth to speak but Sherlock held his hand up as he met John’s eyes again.

“You’re probably wondering why I didn’t want all the fuss John. Usually I would go along with a surprise party, but not this year as it has only recently occured to me that the only thing I wanted to do on my birthday was to spend it with a certain someone. I’ve been thinking and I realised something has been eating away at me inside and it just happens to be my feelings for a certain John Watson,” Sherlock explained with a slight lopsided grin.

“M-me?” John stammered.

He began to get flustered as the pounding in his chest started up again. John was slightly confused by now, he didn’t exactly know what Sherlock meant, he suspected the detective was bluffing again.

“I don’t understand what you mean Sherlock,” the doctor wavered.

Sherlock gave out a prolonged sigh as he shuffled closer to John, feeling the warmth bounce off him. 

“It’s fairly simple John. You appear to have cracked something inside me, or perhaps broken down a wall, so to speak. To put it easier for you. I, uh,” Sherlock’s words faultered as he became flustered at what he was about to do. 

“Well, spit it out,” John replied, eagerly watching his best friend before him.

Sherlock huffed again as he turned his body slightly to face John.

“I, Sherlock Holmes,” he wavered. “Am telling you, John Watson,” he continued, his hand resting on John’s cheek.

John’s breathing hitched at Sherlock’s touch as the detective grinned again. 

“Go on,” John mumbled.

“I am completely and hopelessy in love with you,” Sherlock answered, his gaze locking with John’s once again. 

“Sher-” he stopped as Sherlock hushed him.

Without another word Sherlock ever so gently connected his lips with John’s as the doctor’s eyes widened slightly before slowly dropping closed. He relished the moment, unwilling to believe that it was real, despite it feeling completely real. Sherlock’s lips parted ways with John’s as they pressed softly against his neck and John shuddered. Being slightly mischievious as he is, Sherlock pinched John’s jaw line gently with his teeth.

“Sherlock!” John shrieked as he pushed the detective away.

Sherlock’s body trembled as he burst into fits of laughter, slowly followed by John joining in on the hilartiy. They slowly settled down before the pair stared longingly into each other’s eyes. 

“Is everything you say true?” John questioned.

Sherlock’s hands clasped onto John’s as he brushed his lips delicately along the doctor’s knuckles.

“Of course it’s true you fool,” Sherlock chuckled. “You’ve honestly brought out the other side of me John,” he added.

“That being?” John asked.

“The loving and well...tender, caring side of me,” Sherlock hummed, brushing his thumb along John’s fingers.

John smirked as he shrugged Sherlock’s coat off of himself, handing it back to the detective.

“You’re freezing now, I suggest we go back to the flat,” he replied.

Sherlock nodded in approval, slipping his coat back on.

“I’m assuming everyone would have left,” John sighed.

“That’s a good thing,” Sherlock replied, standing up from the bench. “It means I get my birthday wish of spending all the time I can get, with you,” he added.

John felt himself blush again as Sherlock wrapped him up in his arms, the doctor’s face burying into the detective’s chest.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you John,” Sherlock whispered.

“It’s alright Sherlock,” John mumbled, pulling away. “Just, Happy Birthday, again, and sorry for slapping you,” he chuckled, kissing Sherlock’s cheek.

Sherlock gave John another one of his lopsided smiles as his eyes crinkled slightly in happiness.

“Now let’s get home before we bloody well freeze,” he ordered.

John let out a laugh as he and Sherlock left the park as they made their way back to 221B Baker Street. The detective smirked as he found his hand inches from John’s, lacing his fingers through the doctor’s as he gave it a gentle squeeze. John and Sherlock exchanged glances as they smiled before turning around a corner and disappearing into the night. 

The detective and his doctor, his best friend, his lover. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was actually baking a cake while I watched Sherlock and this idea popped into my head.


End file.
